The Voice That Never Sang
by Assassin's Argentine Tango
Summary: Nick Foxlaine has been a South Park resident his whole life and with his friends Craig Tucker, Wendy Testaburger, and Butters he learns that sometimes ACTIONS speak louder than WORDS... CraigxOC, KylexStan... Contains sexual violence, violence, and yaoi


Nick Foxlaine had always lived in South Park as did his mother and father, his grandparents, and their parents as far back as he'd known the Foxlaine family and the Mieca family had been here in South Park since its founding. Nick had grown up unlike most other children in South Park did. His parents- well his mother… was wealthy having come from the Mieca family who dominated the coal mining industry for centuries and still does. His father was a stay-at-home dad, and because his mother just had to oversee the mining production she didn't have to leave the house much.

His life had been pretty good up until the weeks before his seventh birthday when the mine collapsed and the company went under as well. His parents had to keep the house because it was the only place they had, and if they did sell the house they wouldn't have anywhere to go had they did. It only got worse as the time passed. His father started drinking again and his mother was too worried about the future to really notice. His mother was searching for jobs left and right, yet to no avail and his father… well he was making no attempts to look for a job himself. 

One night in late August, just before school began, his mother received a call saying that there was an opening in the casino her step-brother worked at in Las Vegas. At the time she should've declined; however they were beginning to receive foreclosure warnings in the mail, and the job was guaranteed to pay enough to live comfortably again. True it was going to be rough and his mother would have to be out of town for weeks at a time, but in this time of need there was no moment to spare. So in earnest, she packed her bags and went to Vegas that night to start her new job as a pit boss.

Life started to return to a normal pace for his family about a month later. The only difference was that his mother was now practically living in Vegas in a condo she purchased. She came back as often as she could, but it still was rare if she did come home. His father was still drinking heavily, which was beginning to scare Nick.

His routine was still the same he'd wake up, have breakfast, go to school, come home, do his homework, go over a friend's house until seven, then go to bed and wait for the cycle to begin again the next morning.

In late September the cycle was broken he woke up, ate breakfast, went to school, came home, but he didn't get the chance to go over a friend's house. In school he'd been given a permission slip for a parent to sign stating their approval for the child to go on a field trip to Old South Park. He came home and looked around for his dad, "Dad? I'm home, and I need you to sign something," He waited for his father to respond, yet he didn't get the response he was looking for. He looked everywhere for his father- in the living room, the dining room, the kitchen, the lounge, the den, the pool hall, the terrace, outback, the basement, the roof, the library, the study, his room, the bathrooms, yet he couldn't find his father anywhere. He was just starting to head downstairs when he heard a hiccup from down the hallway in his bedroom. He thought is strange that his dad was sitting in his bedroom, yet he briskly brushed off the feeling. He knocked on his bedroom door, "Dad?"

His father's gruff voice made a throat-clearing noise then he said, "Oh come in," Nick opened his bedroom door and looked at the man sitting on his bed holding a framed picture of his mother while she was pregnant with Nick, "Close the door and sit down," he said more as a command than a request. Nick closed the door behind him and sat down next to his drunk of a father feeling strangely uncomfortable since they hadn't really spoken since his mother left, "I married your mother in 1990, and two years later she had you… now I'm not a man of many words and you know that, son," He put his free arm around Nick, "When we got married we promised nothing would interfere with our love; meaning, jobs, money, people, you know that sort of thing, but lately it's been hard to say I love her because we've grown apart," He finished with a hiccup.

Nick looked away from his father and said in a mousey voice, "Are you guys getting a divorce?" He looked back at his father who merely nodded his head, which was slightly reassuring.

His father smiled at him and said, "No, son, we've discussed that before and we feel even though the love may have left we won't leave each other for your sake," Nick smiled at his father with tears in his eyes, "You know you look very much like your mother," He said hugging him, "You have her eyes," He began to rub Nick's back slowly, "Her smile," He strongly sniffed Nick's hair, "Her intoxicating scent," Nick tore away from his father slightly disturbed by that final comment. He looked at his son with a very sideways glance that didn't really make Nick feel safe. Then Nick felt his father's hand rubbing his crotch, which Nick felt somewhat unsure with, but he didn't really know then that that was a bad thing, "So let's see if you are like your mother," He said with a slight wink then he stopped rubbing his son's crotch and he put down the picture and stood in front of Nick. He began to unfasten his pants. Nick then felt the need to run, so he tried to get up, but his father pinned him down to the bed by his throat and pulled his pants down so that he was now only in his beater and underwear. Nick had fear glazed over in his eyes as his father began undressing him. Nick attempted to put up a fight, "Now don't get all squirmy on me now," He hit him across the face, and dazed him. Everything was now fuzzy and distorted he looked at his father who now had fully undressed Nick, and was now taking off his beater and his underwear. He stared at his father's penis, which was about three time the size of his own and hard for some reason, which he could not fathom, then he felt a warn sensation in his own penis and it too was now hard. He was too young to know about sex or experience it for that matter. He still felt the need to run until he felt something being pushed into his butt, and he let out a bloodcurdling scream, which was silenced by his father's strike to the face. He was now crying hot tears as his father plunged into him, then retreated, the plunged again almost in a thrusting motion. His father was now also stroking his penis, which felt good, but wrong at the same time. He closed his eyes and wished for it all to be over. Then when he opened his eyes the last thing he could remember was the framed picture of his mother coming at his face.

He awoke the next morning feeling tired, beaten, sticky, and sad. His father wasn't in the room anymore, but Nick was still naked and as he walked over to his bathroom and looked to look in the mirror he stepped on the broken picture of his mother pregnant with him, and cried while continuing to painfully walk into the bathroom. He looked into his body mirror and didn't recognize his own reflection. It was instead another boy who looked like him, but had a black eye, a broken nose, bruised ribs, and glass protruding from his face. He sighed and began to pick the shards of glass from his face, which took less than several minutes, and when he finished he saw his father in the reflection standing in the doorway. He turned around and gulped.

His father was already drunk and he was looking at his son with hunger in his eyes, "I called you out of school saying you fell through the coffee table and had bruises and cuts," He licked his lips provocatively, "about last night, I'm going to warn you now that if you tell anybody what happened I will kill you," He had a real malevolence to his threat, which petrified Nick, "I told the school that you'd be back on Monday."

Nick's heart skipped a few beats. It was Thursday, which meant he had to be stuck in the house with his father for today, tomorrow, Saturday, and Sunday. He could've cried, but when he cried in front of his father last night he was hit. So he sucked it up and whispered, "Okay."

His father came towards him and he backed up into the mirror feeling trapped. He held his arms up and closed his fearing the worst, but instead his father knelt down next to him and hugged him carefully so Nick's bruises didn't flare up in pain, "You know son I think this will work out just fine," Nick opened his eyes and felt his father stroking his penis again, and again it felt good but wrong at the same time. When his father had rubbed it enough so it'd be hard he stopped hugging him and began to take it into his mouth. Nick felt strange because he never knew the pleasure sex could bring it was really shameful, but it was the closest thing to love and affection he felt from his father in a long time so he submitted and didn't put up a fight. He felt his penis throb and he was scared until he felt something hot and sticky emerge from the tip into his father's mouth. His father swallowed the substance and drunkenly smiled at his son saying, "How did that feel?"

Nick felt embarrassed and shamefully looked away out the window and wished he could be a school for once in his life. 

The weekend passed without any more abuse, which Nick was grateful for, and as his father had said on Monday he was getting ready for school, but only this time something different was happening. His father was concealing all the bruises and cuts that where still visible with concealer powder. His father walked him to the bus stop and along the way Nick said, "Hey dad can I go to Craig's house after school?"

His father stopped and looked at him with a deathly glare that really frightened the boy, "You are going to school then coming straight home, understand?" He continued that death glare for a good six minutes until Nick finally nodded signaling his defeat. His father dropped him off at the bus stop where a black boy stood with his backpack against the sign. It was one of Nick's good friends. His name was Token Black and he smiled halfheartedly at Token who smiled back.

Token looked at him strangely saying, "Are you okay?" Nick didn't know what to say. Inside all he was thinking was _no I'm not my fucking father hit me and did stuff to me that I wish I could tell you, but if I did he'd kill me!_ Token just stared waiting for a response, "Look if you want to talk you know I'm here for you dude!" Token smiled and Nick shifted his glance to see the bus heading down the street to pick them up. They got on the bus and Nick sat next to his best friend Craig Tucker while Token sat next to Clyde.

Like Token, Craig could tell something was up with Nick just be the way he was carrying himself, "Hey dude, is everything alright?" Craig asked raising his eyebrows, "You seem down."

Nick once again wished he could say something, but all that came out of his mouth was, "I'm fine, can you open the window?" Craig opened the window and turned to see Nick with a cigarette in one hand and a lighter in the other.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Craig whispered real low so he didn't attract attention to himself or Nick, "You know that'll kill you! Where did you get that?" Nick took a puff and let his eyes drop- the truth was he'd started smoking over the weekend after the incident in the bathroom. He stole his dad's pack of cigarettes and began smoking them himself.

Nick looked at Craig with innocent eyes and said, "Please, just don't judge me it's been a rough weekend," Craig nodded and Nick continued to puff away on the cigarette with Craig's eyes not leaving the sight of the cigarette.

A girl in the seat in front of the popped her head over the seat and said, "Hey Nick! Hey Craig," She then saw the cigarette and said, "Nick? What are you doing?" Her name is Wendy Testaburger she was a few months older than Nick and Craig, even though on the outside looking in it seemed as though she doesn't exactly see eye to eye with the two boys they were actually good friends.

Nick looked at her with the same broken eyes he had when his father was molesting him. Wendy always reminded Nick of his mother, and the two had a rather interesting relationship they were more than friends, but not enamored with each other in any way well not that he knew of, "Smoking," He said stating the obvious, which made Wendy seem more feral than understanding.

Craig looked at Nick as he took another drag, "Dude, this isn't good something bad happened and me and Wendy aren't going to stop until you tell us what it is," Craig and Wendy looked at him for the rest of the bus ride, which Nick hadn't spoke a word to neither of them. He got off the bus with Wendy and Craig in hot persuit. He turned to look at them and started seeing his father chasing after him instead of Wendy and Craig, which made him begin to cry and shout heinously at them, "Leave me the fuck alone!" He ran into the boys bathroom crying in the stall furthest from the the door. Feeling depressed and lonely he took from his bag a sharp blade and began to slit his wrists. It made him feel better temporarily until he heard the bathroom door open. He put the bloody blade back in his bag and instead of what he'd expected he heard crying instead. He popped his head out from the stall and saw Kip Drordy, the school outcast, crying as he washed what appeared to be macaroni from his hair. Nick walked out of the stall and Kip turned around and averted his eyes to make it seem as though he wasn't crying. Nick walked over to Kip and hugged him realizing now that the years he, Craig, Clyde, and Cartman would play pranks on him was no better than the abuse he was suffering at home. Kip cried into Nick's shirt until he realized there was blood on him, "What the?" He pulled away and seen what Nick had done to himself. Kip began running for the door, but Nick had stopped him.

Nick pulled him into the last stall and said, "Kip, I know we haven't really ever seen eye to eye, but I promise I won't pull any tricks on you anymore if you don't mention this," Kip smiled and then looked away, "Kip look it's very complicated and I know this is bad, but I don't know what else to do."

Kip turned to him and handed Nick his blue jacket and said, "Here take this... if you walk around with your wrists exposed it won't look good," Nick took the jacket and hugged Kip again this time he was crying into Kip's shirt, "Do you want to talk about it?" Nick looked at him and couldn't respond to that, "Look you can trust me I don't have friend's to tell it to anyway so why not?"

Nick seemed somewhat skeptical about this; however, he knew Kip had no friends to tell so there shouldn't be any harm in it so for the next three hours he described in horrifying details the fucked up weekend he had.


End file.
